Go On
by LSMunch
Summary: I know where you're coming from, it sounds like where I've been. When they do you like that, what else can you do, but go on?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Not mine.

"So, how's your partner doing?" He had taken to calling Elliot, not by his name, but by his status. That of Olivia's partner. He didn't even feel the man deserved his last name to be uttered.

Olivia snorted. "You see him every day, you can tell yourself. He's dealing with it about as well as he deals with any other large change in his life. Shitty."

"Well, I guess not everyone can accept divorce as gracefully as me."

"Ha ha, Munch." She continued to watch the security tape they had gotten from a store, but he could see in her posture that she wasn't dealing with the whole thing as well as she'd like either.

"How about you?"

"Last time I checked, Munch, those questions are the type that shrinks ask."

"Hey, they've put us through enough of them for us to be pretty damn good at parroting them. Besides, they don't know anything, not really." He glanced from the television screen to her face and back again. "Hell, the best people for us to talk to are probably one another," he added quietly.

"I haven't seen you offering your services to Elliot," she replied without batting an eye.

Now it was his turn to snort. "Him... he needs professional help. Beyond my expertise, fortunately."

"Of course, you could do a better job talking to him about divorce than any of us, and certainly better than any shrink."

"I'll choose to ignore that and shuffle it into the 'angry statements' pile." He looked at her again, her face lit by the bluish glow of the tape. "To be perfectly honest, I couldn't give a shit how he's doing, because it's his own damn fault. I know how it is, you get tangled up in work, you don't bring enough money home for all those hours, the wife misses you and when you are home, talking about work's the last thing you wanna do. On top of all that, he's got you, which is both his biggest asset, and his biggest downfall. You know the story better than I, concerning that. But the truth is, he could have always tried harder. Hell, with my wives, I wanted to be at work. At home... well, that's a story for another day. It'll suffice it to say they weren't anything close to Kathy, on any level. It's too late for him now, no matter how far is reach is, because all he's grasping at are straws. And you know what? Every straw he grabs at breaks you a little more, and he doesn't even realize it. He's too wrapped up in counting his straws."

She was silent.

"But you know, I'm here, if you want. I know you know that, but I thought that maybe you needed a little reminder. And no matter how hard I try, I don't think I'll break you. Somehow, against me, you're stronger. Maybe it's because you're heart is still closed to me. Well, I'm planning on changing that. So, when you feel like giving me a ring, pulling me aside, or into a closet, I'll be waiting."

He stood, pushing his chair back and walked to the door. "And I might mention, before I leave to torture Fin, I'm quite patient with these things, so don't feel rushed. Take your time. I'll be around." And with that, he left her staring at the television.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry this took a while. I didn't like how I left off this chapter the first time I wrote it, so I changed the ending a bit, but I didn't do that until yesterday. But here it is, nonetheless.

"What's up with him?" he asked his partner quietly, nodding towards their colleague.

Glancing to his left, he looked back at his partner and said, "Think it's done."

"You mean," Munch made a slicing motion with his finger across his throat, "it's all wrapped up and sent on it's way?"

Fin nodded. "You didn't hear it from me, though."

Taking his turn to look at Elliot, he muttered, "I don't quite think he's on the war path anymore. Looks more like he's ready to hand it all in."

"Yeah, well," Fin said and they let it drop. Sure that his partner was fully returned to his file, Munch looked sidelong to where Olivia was sitting. He couldn't quite tell if she felt as bad as her partner, or was happy that the whole thing was done and over with. Shaking his head, he returned to his own paperwork, and decided to wait for her to come to him.

* * *

"Hey, Munch, here's the Bellavue file."

He looked up at her, wondering what in the hell she was talking about. She waved the file in front of him before dropping it on his desk.

"You said you wanted another look at the crime scene photos."

He seemed to remember something about it, so instead of questioning further, he simply said, "Thanks," and watched as she sat down at her own desk. Opening the file, he began to rifle through the photographs when he came upon a piece of paper. More like the corner of a paper someone, he assumed Olivia, had torn off and scribbled on. Turning it sideways, he read, 'Are you still waiting? If so, dinner tonight? I'll meet you at my car around 8.' Smiling a little to himself, he grabbed a pen and wrote, 'I told you I was a patient man when it came to this, didn't I?' and placed it another file, one he had been working on earlier. "Since we're exchanging files," he said, spinning in his chair to face her, "here's the one you asked me about before." He held out the file, trying to keep his face straight as she took it from him.

Drawing attention to himself, he said to his partner, "We still gotta talk to that pizza guy again. I finished that DD5 I was working on. Wanna go now?"

Looking up, Fin shrugged. "Sure. You drivin'?"

"Why not? Got the keys?"

Fin tossed them to Munch as he stood up. He grabbed his coat from the hook and pulled it on as Munch put his hat on. "Hey, Liv, Cragen asks..."

"Yeah, I gotcha."

"Thanks," Munch said and they left, skirting a uniformed officer as they went through the squad doors.

* * *

She pushed her plate from her. "I can't eat another bite."

He smiled. "Not even dessert?"

"No way. I think I'll burst."

"Good, because I don't think I can afford it."

"I invited you, I'll pay."

"Okay."

"You're supposed to argue with me, not agree in a heartbeat."

"I knew I was forgetting something." He smiled again. "So, now that we've had a perfectly lovely dinner, engaged in amicable conversation, I must ask, what exactly is the occasion?"

She looked down at the table, and he instantly regretted souring her mood, though he had no intent of it. "It's finished. Elliot's divorced," she said quietly, and he wondered if she was talking to him or herself.

"I heard. Look, Liv, he'll get better soon. It's like the opposite of afterglow, but just like afterglow, it fades away with time. It'll hurt later, probably for the rest of his life, but he's just gotta get moving. Go on with his life, maybe meet someone new, and let that make the pain more of a memory."

"You think so?"

"I know so. I've been through it four times, and while four may not seem like a very large number, it is when it comes to counting marriages."

She continued to stare at the table, then looked up at him. "Did you count straws?"

He sighed and looked to the side before looking back at her. "Yeah, I counted straws, memories, chances... everything. Looked back to count the ways I went wrong. Count the different paths we could've taken, or rather, I could've taken. I can bet that Elliot went down every one of those roads, counting up everything. It's a reflex. Deep down, you still love 'em, but the truth is, you can't live with 'em anymore. In Elliot's case, more so than any of mine, Kathy couldn't live with him, while he was still perfectly content to live the way he was. For me, it was a bit more mutual." He wondered if she would question him further concerning his exact meaning by the word 'mutual', but no questions were forthcoming.

"You know, today, when we went to re-canvass for the Simmons case, he said he was sorry."

"Did he now? Well, that's certainly news. Soemthing to put in the scrapbook, I'd say. Wish I'd've been there to see him apologize."

"When we were in the car, he said he was sorry for being such an ass since Kathy left him."

The way she sat there, the way she left her sentence hanging a bit, he knew the other thing Elliot had told her. Trying, with as much grace as possible, he said softly, "He told you he loved you."

Her head snapped up, her brow furrowed, but before she could ask, he held up his hand. "I've been a detective for thirty years now, Liv. Watched enough soap operas, enough prime time dramas to know what he said. That and your body language... you might as well've had a sign on your forehead. A billboard out on the highway."

"Do you have a radar or something?" she couldn't help but ask.

"If I tell you that, I might have to kill you," he replied with mock seriousness, then softened. "What'd you say?"

She was quiet, but his time, instead of guessing what had happened, he let her tell him herself. It was, after all, her story. Her partner. Her life. "You know, we've been partners for eight years, and we've been there for each other no matter what. Didn't matter if we got pushed away, we stuck to it. Stuck to each other. Lately, it was harder to do that. It was harder to talk to him, watch his back, all the stuff I'd been doing for eight years was suddenly hard. And for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why. I didn't know if it was me, or him, or what. He was going through the whole thing with Kathy, and I couldn't help him. He was pushing me away, I was trying as hard as I could to push back, like I always had. But I couldn't. God, I just couldn't. And I tried to give up on him, but I couldn't do that either. I was stuck there, watching him fall apart with his marriage." She let a small laugh escape her. "I guess I know why now, huh?"

He watched her, knowing exactly what she had said. Knowing what she had told her partner.

"I told him I loved him, too. Jesus, John, what the hell did I do?"

_Broke my heart_, he thought, but said quietly, "You took another path."


	3. Chapter 3

"You haven't told Cragen yet, have you?" he asked, and though the subject hadn't been touched upon for more than a month, she immediately knew what he was referring to.

"If either of us do, we can't be partners. We're good as partners." She added the second bit, almost to reassure herself, he thought.

He nodded. "Best partners I've ever seen." He lifted his newspaper again, continuing to read.

"Jealous?"

Still holding the newspaper up, he said, "Me? Never. Me and my buddy Fin are workin' out just fine, thank you."

She laughed a little. "No way is John Munch jealous."

"You're right, no way. I'm not jealous."

"And he's in denial." He could hear the smile in her voice.

"Again, wrong. And you call yourself a detective."

"Yes, I do. A damned good one if I do say so myself."

"Oh, you do now? That's interesting." The paper was still held in front of his face, but not for long. Olivia stood up and pulled the paper down, meeting no resistance.

"Yes, I do," she said to his face.

He couldn't help but look straight into her still smiling eyes. There were times when he needed his tinted glasses, and if this wasn't one of them, he didn't know what was. To his surprise, he found himself whispering, "Well, you are."

"Thank you." She released her hold on his paper, but he made no move to return it to it's prior position as she sat back down at her desk. A few minutes later, she glanced over at him. "You okay?" He hadn't moved since she had returned to her seat.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Sure?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he repeated.

She wasn't convinced. "Did that bother you just now? I didn't mean-"

"I'm fine," he said again, more forcefully.

She held up a hand. "All right."

Returning to her work, he lifted up his paper, but couldn't concentrate as he had before. Bringing it down again, he asked, "How is it that you two can sleep together, then wake up and go to work together? Don't you ever get sick of each other?"

Putting down her pen, she looked up slowly. "I'm not sure I know how to answer that. Where'd that come from, anyway? Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine." He threw his paper on his desk and stood up, leaving the squad room.

* * *

"John?" she called out tentatively, holding the door open with one hand. He didn't answer her. "John?" she called again, letting the door fall shut behind her. Walking over, she noticed his dark figure standing farther down than usual, around the corner of the stairway entrance. "I'm not entirely sure what happened up there, but whatever I did, I'm sorry that I upset you."

He looked down at the street below. Quietly, he repeated, "I told you, I'm fine."

She stood next to him, following where she imagined his gaze to be. It was hard to tell in the dark, especially with his glasses on. There had been a time when if she stood in the right spot, she could she past his slightly tinted lenses, but the past few years, especially the last, she hadn't been able to do that. "You know, once we stood on this roof and when I asked you what was wrong, you told me. You told me all about your neighbor from the lower east side. I remember the whole story, though I suppose you really wouldn't want me to repeat it. You really felt for Emily McKenna, and that night I found out why. Why can't we do that again? Why can't you tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," he insisted quietly.

"Even when we first met, if you had said that, I wouldn't have believed you. I've always been able to sense when you're not doing so great, I don't know why or how, but I have. And I have a feeling you can do the same with me. Perhaps it's because of that that we became friends, or maybe it was just because we're in this unit together. I don't know. But I do know that this friendship has always been as important as the one I share with Elliot. Do you know why? Because you were always there when Elliot wasn't. Didn't matter what happened, you were there. And you didn't push like Elliot, you didn't forgive me like Cragen, you didn't hold an airy indifference like Fin, you just cared and you let me come to you on my own. That's why, and I love you for that. I always have. You have to understand that, John. If you don't, I don't know what's gonna happen between us, but I have a feeling that it won't be anything that I'll cherish."


	4. Chapter 4

"There a reason you're up here without a coat?"

"I'm conducting an experiment to see how long it takes until I get frostbite," she said sourly.

"So I guess you don't want your jacket. I'll just throw it onto the street. Some homeless person might like it. So warm."

She didn't answer him.

"You know, what you said last time we were up here... I do understand. I always have, I just was having a hard time of it a while ago. You caught me at it, too. But, uh... seeing as your busy being a scientist, I'll just wait until later. Your jacket's over here." He placed it on the barren stone planter. Lingering for a few minutes, he studied her hunched frame, hands tucked in her armpits, trying to keep warm. Her windblown hair, locks flying in front of her face as the wind blew from behind, making her shiver. He couldn't leave her alone up here, even if she was conducting ground breaking environmental tests. Picking her coat back up, he walked over to where she was looking at the city. Opening her coat, he let it rest on her shoulders, and she immediately hugged it closer to her body. "Things aren't so great anymore, huh?" he said quietly, more of a statement than a question.

"Munch, leave it." That was her warning. That was always her warning, to say his last name in a semi-threatening tone, but he always ignored it and plowed ahead.

"I don't suppose this has anything to do with this last case, does it?" This wasn't really a question either. He knew all the answers, he just needed to put them in the form of questions to get her to talk. If he didn't, she simply wouldn't respond at all. She'd keep it all inside until the apocalypse and no one would be the wiser, or so she thought. Where Elliot shoved, he prodded gently, teasing and needling his way into a confession that left both of them feeling better. Where Cragen forgave, he laid down a guilt trip that left her sprawled on her face and he would help her back on her feet. Where Fin was indifferent, he cared so much he thought that one day his heart might burst from all of it. They all had their ways around her, taking different paths to her heart and each holding a piece in his hand. They were her protectors, though she might deny the need, or want, for them until she could no longer breathe. They were her mentors, although somehow she always wound up teaching them more than they had taught her. She was for them, and they were in turn for her. Even outnumbered, she held them all in the palm of her hand. There was no choice in the matter for them.

"Not really." She had relented quickly, and this surprised him, though he never let it show.

"I'm sorry."

She snorted. "Are you really?"

"Olivia, no matter what I say about Stabler, he's still a good guy. Despite how he blows things out of proportion, how he beats up everyone when he's hurting, how he denies himself air when he needs it most, he's a good guy. And I can't tell you how happy I am that you finally found a good guy, and how much I hurt when you find a bad guy, or the good guy turns bad.You don't have to believe me, just entertain me when I say that. That's all I ask. Well, that and one other thing. When the good guy starts going bad, don't let yourself stay there, no matter how much you love him and no matter how much it hurts to leave. Do that, not for me, but for yourself. You deserve a guy who's constantly good and never turns bad. The right guy. The one guy."


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey, John! Wait up!" She jogged down the hallway, catching up with him at the elevator. "I'm going with you."

"Oh, I thought that perhaps you were calling my name amidst such a crowd to profess your undying love for me. How silly of me."

She couldn't help but smile. "Nah, I need outta here for a while. Get some air."

"Wouldn't that be tempting fate?"

She shrugged as they stepped out of the elevator. "Maybe, but I'll just have to take my chances, won't I?"

"Hey, it's your life."

This time she outright laughed and shook her head. "You're too much."

"Perhaps there's a reason that my name happens to spell 'much' then. It was destiny for me to be too Munch." He started the car and they were silent for a while.

"Do you really believe in destiny and fate?"

"If there's a God, yes," he replied simply and they both lapsed back into silence. Upon reaching their destination, he parked the car and started to get out. When Olivia didn't move, he leaned his head back down and said, "I thought you were coming with me for fresh air."

"When I asked him, he said yes."

"Who?"

"He said he thought that it was fate that we met. It was our destiny to become partners and friends and now..."

"You're kidding me? He actually said that?"

She nodded slowly, staring at the dashboard. "I don't know what's gotten into him. A few months ago, he couldn't deal with Kathy leaving him, and now he thinks it fate. They were meant to get divorced. He was meant to fall in love with me."

This was too much for him to handle. He collapsed back into the driver's seat, pulling the door shut. "He's off his rocker."

"He's scaring me. When I asked... he went on for a good while before finally stopping. I don't know if he's finally cracking, or if he really believes this stuff he's ranting about... I just don't know."

"You know, thinking about it... he has been a little weird lately. And I take it you still haven't told Cragen?"

She shook her head. "He wants to wait until the right time."

"Let me guess, that just happens to be whenever fate dictates him to fall on his sword for you."

"Yeah, basically."

Shaking his head, he laughed a bit to himself. "Destiny," he muttered. "Fate." And started to laugh harder.

Olivia watched as he laughed, wondering when he would stop. After a few minutes, he calmed down and looked at her. "I'm sorry, it's just..."

"Don't worry about it," she said quietly.

Turning serious, he said, "Look, I know it scares you. Scares me, too. And I know he's never going to talk to a shrink, but he should talk to someone. Going from broken hearted to believing it was all his destiny is a little wacked, even for a man who believes in God. Something's going on in his head that isn't normal. I don't want to alarm you or anything, but he should really talk this out with someone, a shrink being his best bet. Talk to him. See if he believes it's his destiny to talk to someone about this, other than you that is. Someone who will question him without getting into a fight." He watched her look at the dashboard. "C'mon, let's get lunch. Otherwise, Stabler might think it's his destiny to skin me alive."


	6. Chapter 6

After an afternoon of Fin glancing at him, John finally slammed down his pen at looked up at his partner. "Have you been diagnosed with a spastic eye disorder? Or do you need a visit to the doctor? 'Cause I'll take you."

Fin only shook his head and looked back down at his paper.

He stared at the younger man for another minute before turning back to his own work. Then, his partner flicked his eyes up again, and John threw his pen at him. "What do you want from me?"

"It'd be nice if you stopped throwing things at me." He tossed the pen back.

"No way. You're plotting something. What are you going to do to me? Hmm? I have ways to make you talk."

"I'm not plotting anything. You're the one who's plotting."

"Really? Mind telling me my plans?"

Again, Fin only shook his head.

"Out with it, buddy, or you shall be subjected to my mighty powers."

"No."

John sighed. "You leave me no choice then." Standing up, he said, "Come on."

Warily, Fin stood as well. "Where are you taking me?"

"My evil lair. Just... come on."

Still wary, Fin followed his partner, knowing he should have stayed in his seat, where he was at least in the company of others who could help him when he started to go under once his partner's theories started to overwhelm him. When they reached the roof, John turned to his partner. "Okay, we're away from anyone who might overhear you. What the hell is up?"

Relaxing a bit, Fin realized that his partner was doing him a favor, not leading him to the clutches of conspiracy theories. "You and Benson. What's up?"

Sighing, John walked over to the edge of the roof. "Just helping out a friend."

"Oh, no, man. Ain't that easy. There's more than that going on. Her and Stabler are sleeping together, aren't they?"

He nodded, silent.

"Then what the hell are you doing with her?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Hey, you certainly ain't just talkin'." Sensing his partner's anger starting to well up, he added, "Look, I know you're not sleepin' with her, but you two are closer. Ever since Stabler's divorce was finalized."

"Figures you'd notice," John said resignedly. "I offered to be there if she ever needed to talk. Once Stabler was divorced, she and I had dinner. She told me he had made a move on her, and she returned the move. She's been havin' a time of it. We just talk."

Fin knew it was more than that, but decided he'd had enough answers. After all, if he asked his other questions, he'd make his partner uncomfortable, perhaps even earn himself an uncharacteristic chewing out by his partner. If he was right, maybe even a somewhat deserved punch. He wasn't ready to try his luck. Later, if he picked up anything else.

"You done?" John's voice brought him back.

"I just wanted to know what was up with my partner, so yeah, I'm done."


	7. Chapter 7

"Stay outta my personal life, Munch."

"What?" John looked up.

"I said, stay outta my personal life."

Looking first left, then right, John let his eyes settle in the middle, on Stabler. "Pardon me?"

"You heard me."

"I've no idea what you're talking about."

"You wise ass old man, you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Ah, I see. You're angry that I've been talking with Olivia."

"No shit, grandpa."

Holding up a finger, an odd smile on his face, John said, "I'll have the record show that I cannot be a grandfather, for the simple fact that I do not have a child to begin with. So that whole remark is completely unbased. Second, I'll have the record show that it is possible for a woman to be going out with a man, and have another as merely a friend."

"Oh, I'm not really mad about that. You see, it happens that she has told you something about me, and you saw fit to tell her that I needed to see a shrink. I don't like it when people stick their noses where they don't belong."

Knowing he was playing a risky game, John replied, "I have a problem with that too. Except I didn't stick my nose anywhere. She volunteered the information, and I simply voiced my thoughts on the matter. That you should visit the good doctor is merely an opinion, for I have no control over whether you actually do so or not." Catching Stabler's smoldering gaze, John tried, "Look, you weren't such a nice guy when you and Kathy were separated, and you weren't such a nice guy when you were getting divorced. She hated seeing you like that, hell we all did. But she didn't just hate it because you were suffering, she hated it because you wouldn't let anyone through. Not even her. Not even your goddamned _partner._ You hurt her, but you know what? Despite it all, she's still with you. More with you than ever. I have my reservations about the whole ordeal, but for now I'll keep them to myself. Maybe I'll never tell anyone, but it doesn't mean that I don't care. In fact, I care a lot about her, just like you, just like Cap, just like all of us. I care enough that if you hurt her, I don't think I'll ever be able to bear your presence again. Just don't hurt her. Love her with everything you have, because if she leaves, there won't be any getting her back."


	8. Chapter 8

"I take it your partner is MIA for a reason?"

"Yeah, he went to see Huang."

"So, he decided to listen, huh?" John shook his head. "He must be one of the moodiest men I have ever met."

"Why's that?"

"He came about this close to assaulting me last week."

Her head snapped up from the pictures they were looking at. "What the hell happened?"

John shrugged. "He told me to stay out of his personal life. Confronted me on the fact that you and I had been talking, and about it specifically. He found it nosy that I had told you that perhaps he should visit a shrink. We had a nice heart to heart."

Leaning back in her chair, she closed her eyes. "I knew the minute it slipped out of my mouth that he was going to get angry with you. I don't know why I told him."

"Hey, don't worry, I'm still here, and Stabler decided to take my advice anyway. All's good and well." He put his hand on her arm and rubbed it for a second, then let it lay still. "Everything's all right."

Opening her eyes, she put her own hand over his. "Thanks, John."

He grinned. "What are friends for?"


	9. Chapter 9

"Liv! Open the damn door!" He pounded his fist against the wood, harder than he had before. "C'mon, it's John. Please, just open the door!" Pausing his beating on the door, he pulled out his cell phone, hitting the speed dial number that would call her home phone. The answering machine picked up. "Olivia, I know you're in there. I brought something for you to eat. Open the door. Please." Slowly flipping the phone shut, he pocketed it. Standing still, he listened for any movement within her apartment. When he heard none, he glanced up and down the hallway, then turned his back to the wall and leaned against it. He would wait all night if he had to. Wasn't as if he had anywhere to go.

* * *

"John?" She shook him a bit harder. "John."

Blinking a few times, he finally woke, looking at her uncomprehendingly for a moment before sitting up straighter. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Get up and come inside."

He obeyed, with a bit of a struggle and then, "You didn't answer my question."

"Just go inside, John." He went and she closed the door after him. "Gimme your coat and hat. You put the food on the table."

"Liv..."

This time, she didn't answer him at all, just took the coat, scarf and hat he handed her and turned her back to him as she hung all three in a closet.

"Olivia, I was out there for," he glanced at his watch, "three hours. Where were you?"

"Asleep. That's what people do at night, as you kindly demonstrated outside my door."

He sighed. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Before you came. I didn't look at the clock."

"That's bull. C'mon, I brought you sandwiches and soup. Eat something." He looked at her, watched as she sat, looking exhausted, at the table. Sitting opposite her, he said, "You hafta eat, Liv. Have soup at least. Just to have something in your stomach. Please."

She ignored him and stared at the table. Reaching across, he lifted her chin with his fingers. "I'm not gonna leave until you've eaten something."

Quietly, she said, "Bowls're in the cabinet over there." She pointed behind him and he turned to look, then got up. Soon, she was sitting with a hot bowl of soup in front of her, a spoon poised in her hand to dive in. "Aren't you going to have something?"

He shook his head. "I actually did eat before coming over. Don't worry, just eat."

* * *

"How did we ever get to be friends like this?"

He looked at her. "So you've spent the past two days thinking about _that_?"

"John, I'm not kidding."

Sighing, he said, "I don't know. I'm not even sure if I know exactly what you're asking."

"I'm asking how we got to be where you... I... we talk about this stuff. It's like having a girlfriend."

"I must admit, out of all the things I've been called, that hasn't been one of them. I'll have to add that to my list when I get home." When she hit his arm, he turned semi-serious and said, "I really don't know. Maybe it's because I'm gay. It all fits if you think about it. Overbearing mother, absent father, four marriages, none of which worked. Maybe there's something to that theory." When she hit his head, somewhat lightly, he caught her hand as it was coming down and looked at her. "Honestly, I don't know, Liv. Maybe it's because you're dating Elliot and Fin... well I don't know why he can't be your friend like this. Maybe he's too tough. And Cragen's like your father. Oh, and if you actually talked with him about this, he'd know that you and Elliot aren't just partners in the conventional cop sense of the word. But you know, I don't mind being here, as the girlfriend or the male friend. Are you satisfied with that answer?"

She nodded, but he wasn't convinced.

"Why don't you tell me why you really asked that question," he prodded gently.

She seemed to be thinking over how to word her answer, then, after a moment she said, "It's just... shouldn't I be telling all this stuff to Elliot? He's my partner, and, as you pointed out, more than just the cop sense of the word. Shouldn't he be hearing all this stuff?"

"Not if it has to do with him." He sighed. "Look, Liv, even the best husband and wife, boyfriend and girlfriend, whatever, have doubts and problems amongst themselves that are sometimes better worked out by talking to a friend about them first. They receive reassurance on whatever they're thinking, or perhaps another point of view entirely. Think about it. Can you actually talk about all this with Stabler? Can you get a different opinion from him about why he suddenly believes in fate and destiny?"

"I can't get a second opinion about this whole setup from him either, huh?" she asked quietly, though it was more of a statement.

"No, you can't," he replied, equally as quiet. "Is that why you've been holed up in here? You're not so sure about this anymore?"

She looked at the television, where fictional characters were engaging in a passionate embrace, and not just with their arms. Then she looked to where he was still holding her hand. "No, I'm not. What was I thinking in the first place? I mean, he's my partner. Shouldn't be anything more than that. Maybe..." She trailed off.

"Maybe it was the feeling of being loved. The lure of romance and the sweet smell of chocolates mingled with the taste of wine. Maybe it was wanting, needing, to feel someone's arms around you when you went to sleep. Being understood no matter what you do. No need to explain your job and why you do it. Maybe that's what it was."


	10. Chapter 10

"You okay?" he ventured. Talking with Stabler could prove deadly, especially at this point, but he chanced it anyway. For some reason, he needed to know if Stabler's heart was as broken as it should be.

Instead of John's prediction of hostility, Stabler answered quietly, tiredly, "Yeah."

"Sure?"

Stabler nodded. "It was a good run. It wasn't gonna last anyway."

"Destiny tell you that? Or fate?"

Stabler snorted. "Neither. A beautiful woman with a gun and a badge told me." The small smile faded from his lips. "I was crazy to think it would last anyway. I just wanted something to hold onto, anything, and she was my anything."

"She just wasn't your everything, right?"

"You could say that."

John nodded. "You know, she does love you."

"I know."

"That's why she couldn't do it anymore. She wanted to have a partner like you and a boyfriend like you, but not in the same man. She loved you too much in too many ways."

Stabler stared at his desk, the scattered papers. "Thanks, John."


	11. Chapter 11

"You know, Stabler seems to be doing all right."

"Yeah."

"What about you? Holding out for the right man again?"

"Nah."

He was taken aback. "Really? Given up, have you?"

"Nah."

Furrowing his brow, he looked at her, confused. "Well, already got another man then?"

"Sort of."

"Spit it out, will you? Jeez, Liv. I can't sit here, well, stand, and not know. C'mon, girl to girl."

She laughed and shook her head. "If you're a girl, that presents a problem for me."

"How's that? Thought you liked that I was your girlfriend."

"Oh, I do, it's just if you're my girlfriend, then who's gonna kiss me back when I do this?" Before he could say anything, she pressed herself against him, and kissed him full on the lips. Startled, he stood there a moment, a million reasons for exactly why she was kissing him flashing through his mind in only a couple seconds time, the foremost of which being something along the lines of 'she's drunk'. However, when she pulled back, her face still millimeters away from his own, he leaned forward and effectively closed the gap as he kissed her. His hand found it's way to the small of her back, there almost to hold her closer to him, though she was already as close as she could get, her whole body pressed up against his.

She broke it off again and looked at his eyes, trying to see through his glasses, but finding that quite impossible. "Is that so, huh?" she said quietly.

"If I may ask a question..."

"What if I say no?" she joked.

"When exactly did..." he struggled for the right word, and came up only with, "this... happen?"

"Do you even remember what you said all those times we talked? Hmm? Do you remember the way you sounded? The way you threw yourself into those explanations with such... conviction and... love? Do you? Because, gosh, I do and, John... this sounds so stupid... I fell in love with you."

He pulled away from her, putting space between her body and his, his hand slipping from her back and catching her hand. "I'm old, Olivia. I've got problems kneeling or bending down anywhere. I don't run, I sorta jog while Fin sprints to catch whoever where chasing, or better yet, I hop in the car. I'm _old._ You can't... you can't..." he couldn't seem to get the word past his lips.

"Love you? Why not?"

"There's a reason I went through four wives. I'm a miserable man to live with."

"Or maybe you never met the right woman."

"I can't." Her hand slipped from his and he walked over to the side of the roof and leaned heavily on the stone side. When she had gotten together with Stabler, his heart had broke, but now that he was actually faced with the idea that she really did love him, and not just as a friend... he didn't know what to do. This was what happened in dreams, him getting the girl and living happily ever after. But this was real life, dear God, it was _real._ He could still feel the press of her body against his, her lips on his. Subconsciously, he touched his lips with his fingertips, thinking.

"John," her soft voice was behind him, to his left. "John, do you believe in destiny and fate?"

_If there's a God, yes._ "What does this have to do with anything?"

"Just answer the question. Please."

_If there's a God, yes. _He sighed. Did he believe in destiny? In fate? He had told her no, in a way. "I still don't understand..."

"You're not supposed to understand why I'm asking, or what it has to do with the situation. Just give me an answer. And not any old answer. A real answer."

"If there's a Go-"

She cut him off. "And not the one you gave me last time."

What was he supposed to say? _A real answer._ The truth, huh? Well, then... "Yeah." His voice was so soft, he hardly heard it, but apparently she had.

"Then can you believe this is destiny? That this is fate?"

"Olivia, you don't understand."

"What don't I understand?"

"That I'm not supposed to get the girl. I'm the geeky kid in the front row of class, always answering the teacher's questions correctly. I'm the guy that's been married four times. Four! Does that number mean anything to you?"

"Yes. It means that you never found the woman. The one."

"And what makes you think that you're 'the one'?"

"I don't know. Maybe the fact that you always seem to know me inside and out, no matter the situation. That you put voice to things I can't explain. Maybe because I can never find the words to describe you because truth be told, there are no words to describe you. Maybe because I love you. Maybe that's it."

"Liv, I... I can't," he whispered.

"And who's stopping you?" she whispered back, stepping closer to him.

"Ev... everyone."

She shook her head. "If everyone is only you, then yes, everyone." When she looked at him, the hopelessness written so clearly on his face, she took his hand and placed it on her chest, above her heart. "What do you feel?"

"Your heart." God, he was like a little kid now.

She moved his hand and placed it on his own chest, over his heart. "What do you feel?"

"My heart."

"What's so different about them?" she whispered.

"Mine's... mine's old."

"No it's not." A small smile found it's way to her lips. "Hearts can't be contained by the bonds of time. Tell me, if you think they can, tell me how it's possible for a teenager to receive an adult's heart? Certainly the heart must be too old. Only another child's heart could save him. Right?" He was quiet, not knowing how to answer her. "John. I love you. Take that and love me back."

"I... I..."

"Dont' you dare say you can't." Pausing, she looked out to the city, then back to him. "Do you remember that night when we were the only two left here? And I said something to upset you, and you went up to the roof? I followed you, and God, you were upset. I felt so bad. You insisted you were fine, but I'd never seen you like that before. It was anger towards what I had said, and it was something else. I broke your heart. And I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry. But I'm trying to make it up to you now. Let me. Please."

"How do you know you... that you... broke my heart?"

"I've been a detective for quite a few years now. I've watched enough soap operas, enough prime time dramas to know what I did to you. That and your body language... you might as well've had a sign on your forehead, a billboard out on the highway." She smiled a bit again. "Sound familiar?"

He closed his eyes. "Can we really make this work?" he allowed himself to ask.

"The way you kiss... hell yeah."

"Liv."

"Yes, we can. And I intend to make it work."

"Then perhaps... perhaps I can, too."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Closing the gap between them yet again, John held her close, both arms wrapped around her. "And perhaps I can get over the age thing. In time, but perhaps."

She closed her eyes, listening to his heart, her hair tickling his chin and neck. "Thank God."

He left a small kiss on her forehead. "Yeah, thank God."


End file.
